I spent the last few weeks chained to my desk job, a tiresome activity that is starting to lose its luster and allure in me. After a week of pencil-pushing and getting stressed, I could feel myself expanding like a helium balloon about to launched in space. The stressful nature of the past event didn’t help either. Sickly, overweight and with stress issues: I have become a sorry version of my past self.
When the company announced a Zumba class for its health card members, I immediately signed in. In spite not knowing what Zumba meant. I knew it’s the “in” thing for health enthusiasts but I could not, for the life of me, understand the technicalities of the activity. Shall I just dance?
Following Zumba class, I also signed up for the company’s bowling tournament despite the fact that I have zero bowling skills.
Yes, being athletic is not one of my God-given talents.
Let’s talk about Zumba first.
Who knew that the dance meant wiggling and contorting your body in angles I never thought possible. And yes, the dancing. I am convinced that I looked more like a worm easing her way out of a very rotten fruit. “One, two, three…ONE! TWO! THREE!” the pretty Brazilian dance instructress was wiggling her hips seductively set against a very catchy Bollywood number, I meanwhile — resembled a bamboo tree that’s currently being beaten to the hatches by strong winds. What can I do? I was never born to be a dancer. In those catchy, cutesy Hollywood teen dance movies, aspiring dancers usually look hard in the full lengths numbers while they try to bust a move. I meanwhile, was trying not to guffaw on the image reflected on the mirror in front of me: in it, a pathetic figure was trying to achieve a perfect body swish, moving like a munchkin while her hips refused to cooperate.
Who knew Zumba can take your breath away in four counts and three “easy” steps? By the end of the session, I was feeling pain in places I never knew existed. If it was any consolation, no picture of a the “oversized, overweight worm” writhing to Zumba is currently in existence. This saves potential readers of this blog from losing their lunch.
The next week, I was suiting up for the annual bowling tournament for employees.
Having played about two or three games of bowling (all of which ended miserably) on my entire life, I knew that my team has no shot of winning the plastic medals and the little plaques that looked good of the office desk. To add further to our misery, our team was (surprise!) composed of some of the lamest bowling players known to man, yours truly included. Immediately, I sensed the frustration of hard-core bowling players in the group who probably dreamed of recreating any of the legend, Paeng Nepomuceno’s winning shots on the lane.
Too bad the tournament was not the place for them to achieve any of their bowling dreams.
To cut the story short, I scored 61 points out of 10 games/rounds of bowling. That was a personal best, considering that I had an affinity to directing the bowling balls to the next possible gutters available. Our team lost, scoring the lowest in a team of 10.
Truth is, getting in shape is hell. That’s H-E-L-L spelled in capital letters and will probably be rendered with blinking letters if only it was possible in WordPress. However, I just had to get through with it. I am running in circles when it comes to managing my health and my weight that it’s starting to get depressing already. I am also growing old and running pressed for time to start a family, not exactly a good combination when you think about it.
I know I should start running again but there’s just no time to lace up and cover the surrounding areas of the office again. The thick stack of documents to check, the long list of reports to finish, the emails to answer — it’s really not a reason to sink further into this unhealthy lifestyle I have come to lead. It’s time to get physical, seriously consider being fit.